


a crumbled chain

by VenatorNoctis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angelgard (Final Fantasy XV), Canon Divergence, Imprisonment, M/M, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/pseuds/VenatorNoctis
Summary: Prompto sneaks off to explore some gorgeous ruins, and finds something much more unusual than he expected.Okay, horror movie or no, Prompto can't just bail on someone in trouble. "Yeah," he says, stepping back into the doorway. "Are you—" no, asking if he's okay is dumb. "Do you need help?""So very much,"  the stranger replies. "I'm so...." But then he goes quiet, like he's out of breath or changed his mind about what he was going to say, and all he comes up with is a soft, "Please."
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ardyn Izunia
Comments: 21
Kudos: 207
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	a crumbled chain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malsoyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malsoyne/gifts).



Vacation day three dawns clear and bright and awesome. Noct and Prompto split up after breakfast, because Noct wants to "try the fishing" around Galdin, which will probably take all day, and Prompto would much rather go find interesting things to take pictures of than watch the back of Noct's head all morning waiting for the fish to bite. And being here as the prince's Official Guest means Prompto can use this little motorboat that belongs to the royal family—he and Noct tried it out yesterday, got the lecture on how the controls work and how to tell where the water is too shallow and also Don't Go To That One Island.

Prompto is _totally_ going to that one island. He's not going to break anything or trample endangered wildlife or whatever! But even from the shore, the ruins on Angelgard are breathtaking. How could he pass up the chance to take some of the coolest, loneliest abandoned-place photos ever?

He brings the boat in on the far side of the island, where the ruins will hide it from anyone on shore who's looking. The water stays rich blue pretty close in, so he only has to wade a little ways to get to shore and tie up, and then the ruins are his to explore.

They're _beautiful_. The architecture has these high, swooping arches like the buildings are reaching for the sky, and a surprising number of them are still intact. Even where they're not, the broken edges make really cool shapes against the sky. There are signs of birds' presence in some corners, nests with fragments of eggshell—and, okay, walls streaked with poop that Prompto doesn't take pictures of—but no other sign of any animals living here. It's just crumbly rock with tufts of grass poking up through it in places, and one or two scraggly little trees.

And then he finds the staircase. You're not supposed to climb stairs in abandoned buildings without taking precautions, and one of the precautions is "not being alone," but they look really solid, like they're carved right out of a single big slab of stone to curve up around the side of this tower. There's an open doorway at the top. It's calling Prompto's name. Metaphorically.

He gets a few low shots from the bottom of the staircase looking up, and then tries the first stair. It's as solid as it looks. So is the second. By the time he's halfway up the stairs he's not counting anymore, though he does stop really quickly for the cool angle he has on the stone pathways below, the way it almost looks like forking lightning from up here. He's way too curious about what's inside the mystery door.

Or, really, door _way_. There's barely any door left, just a little bit of rotting wood hanging from old hinges. The light from outside makes a little pool on the floor but doesn't get very far, and beyond that it's all darkness and cool air. There would be ghosts here if he were in a movie or something. He's not in a movie. It's cool.

He digs out his phone and switches it to flashlight mode, swinging the beam slowly across the dark room. Wouldn't it be neat to find some kind of ancient treasure in here? It seems weirdly empty at first. Then the beam of is phone light finds a rusty old chain, attached to the wall and stretching out toward the middle of the room, like the kind that would support a chandelier, maybe? He follows it to the center, where it passes through a sturdy ring and hangs down, straight down, until it reaches a pair of _hands_ —bloodless white hands and long bare arms stretched up above a head of dark reddish hair—

"Holy _shit_." Prompto stumbles backward, out into the light, his heart pounding. There's a dead body in there. There's a dead body strung up in there and it can't have been there _long_ to still be in one piece and that means _somebody else comes out here_ to kill people? Probably after doing intensely horrible things to them?

Okay. Okay, the responsible thing would be to tell someone, right? To get back to the mainland and admit he came out here and tell someone who can deal with it. Because that someone is definitely not him.

"Is someone... out there?"

Prompto freezes. The voice came from the tower room, hoarse and breathy, like the guy is struggling to get words out. Maybe this _is_ a horror movie.

"Is... anyone...?"

Okay, horror movie or no, Prompto can't just bail on someone in trouble. "Yeah," he says, stepping back into the doorway. "Are you—" no, asking if he's okay is dumb. "Do you need help?"

"So very much," the stranger replies. "I'm so...." But then he goes quiet, like he's out of breath or changed his mind about what he was going to say, and all he comes up with is a soft, "Please."

Prompto walks closer until his phone light is enough to show him the stranger: the guy's taller than he is and looks even taller than that, hands chained overhead high enough that he has to stand on tiptoes. His hair's long and falls around his face, making it hard to read, and whoever did this to him left him here more or less not dressed, just with one of those not-a-towel-really things wrapped around his hips like he's in an old painting.

"Okay, what do I—I mean, there's not a convenient key around here somewhere, is there?"

"I wish," the stranger says with a pained smile. It really doesn't look like he's breathing so great. 

"Right, let me see what I can do," Prompto says. Turning his back on the guy gives him goosebumps even though that's pretty ridiculous when he's like two-thirds dead and chained up.

Come on, focus. Someone is counting on him. Prompto follows the chain back to where it attaches to the wall, not with hooks or clips or something but apparently _welded_ to the ring bolted into the stone. Somebody wanted this to stay put. And they wanted it a long time ago— _all_ the metal is pitted and rusty from the sea air.

Prompto pulls his utility knife off his belt and tries to get the blade under the plate that holds the ring in place. It's weirdly well stuck on there for how old everything seems to be. Behind Prompto the stranger is breathing in awful shallow gasps. He tries to shove the knife under the plate again—

And drops it with a yelp when it zaps him, like he just stuck it in an electrical socket or something. It didn't fry his phone, though, so that's good. He wrings his hand for a minute, waiting for the tingling to stop and glaring at the ring and the chain. If he can't touch it, he's got to break it some other way, which means...

"Sorry, this is going to be loud." He reaches into the Armiger, its light weirdly bright in the dark tower room, and pulls out his heaviest-caliber pistol. If he's got anything that'll get through old rusty iron... The weld is probably the weak spot. That's where it's not forged solid through. He takes aim, holding his phone steady to keep a light on it, and he thinks _oh man, I should be getting video_ just a second too late, as he's already squeezing the trigger.

The gunshot is the loudest thing he can remember, the sound echoing off the walls, and where the bullet hits metal there's a bright flash of light, way more than just the spark he's expecting. Afterimages of that flash swim in front of his eyes as the chain rattles and slithers through the ring, and then metal is clanging on stone and the stranger cries out sharply and hits the ground with a thud.

Prompto turns back to him immediately. The guy is crumpled in a little heap on the floor with a trail of rust flakes to show where the chain used to be, and at this angle Prompto can see his back real clearly and _yikes_. Scars that bad don't even seem real. That's a terrible thing to think.

"You okay?" he asks as he kneels next to the guy and puts a really careful hand on his shoulder. "I mean, better than being chained up at least?"

"Yes," the man says slowly. "I will be. And you... You are of the line of Lucis?"

"What?" Prompto says. "Oh, the Armiger. No, wow, I'm not that fancy, I just have that on loan. I'm Crownsguard."

The man straightens a little and actually looks him straight on for the first time. His eyes are such a light brown they're almost gold, and despite being all disheveled and stubbly there's something about like, his nose and his jaw, maybe, that makes him look a tiny bit like Noct's dad. He smiles weakly, like it takes work. "My gratitude, sir knight."

"Wow, um, that. That's kind of a lot. Most people just call me Prompto."

"Quickness," the man says thoughtfully. "The virtue of wind, incisive and unhesitating." Maybe he's delirious or something. "Call me Ardyn."

"You got it, buddy." Prompto lifts Ardyn's arm and drapes it over his shoulder—it's weird, it's warm even though he's been here underdressed in the cold—and then isn't sure where it's safe to put his own arm, whether those scars are still sensitive. "Let's try to get you out of here for now. Can you walk?"

"Let's find out," Ardyn says. He gets his feet under him, slowly, and when he he nods Prompto lifts up. It's immediately clear that Ardyn isn't capable of supporting his own weight yet—he's shaking and leaning hard on Prompto's shoulder. But he still tries to take this little shuffling step forward and Prompto's heart twinges. He would sooner die than leave someone in a state like this.

So he braces himself to take Ardyn's weight, grateful he's been struggling through all that training to be strong enough for the Crownsguard, and takes another step. "It's gonna be okay," he says. Being calm in a crisis helps, right. "I'm here for you."

Ardyn's hand on his shoulder tries to squeeze just a little. "That is... the most pleasant thing anyone has said to me in a very long time."

Whoever did all this to him? Prompto doesn't like them at all. He leads the way to the door, trying not to worry too much about the way Ardyn's breathing gets faster and shakier as they go. He's going to make it. It's going to be fine.

They get out into the sunlight though and Ardyn makes this awful sound, wrenching away from Prompto's grip and back toward the shadows. It looks like some kind of greasy dark smoke is coming off his skin, which is kind of awful and terrifying and _not okay_ , but it's not the first weird shit Prompto has seen, right? And he promised to help.

He gets his phone flashlight pointed back into the darkness, following the sound of Ardyn's ragged breathing. "Are you—no, wow, that does not look like you're okay."

There are blistery purple welts on Ardyn's arms where the sunlight hit, and they're still smoking slightly. But the creepiest part is that the whites of his eyes have gone black, and there's black stuff running down from them like tears gone extremely wrong. "No," he says quietly, "I don't suppose I am." He looks down at his hands, or maybe at the scars around his wrists. "If you just leave me here, I swear—"

"Leave you here?" Prompto echoes in disbelief. "What the hell, dude, you need help."

Ardyn looks stunned. "You would still help me?"

"I mean, not gonna lie, that looks like a problem I have no idea how to solve," Prompto says. "But I can get you someplace safe where you can have a bath and a sandwich while we figure out who would have actual answers."

Ardyn smiles just slightly, closing his eyes, and more of the black stuff runs down his cheeks. "That is already greater fortune than I've had cause to hope for since my chains were new," he says. "What do you propose, my noble Crownsguard?"

"You're going to give me a complex if you keep acting like I'm that special." Prompto gets down on his knees, reaching out to just put a hand on Ardyn's knee and... ground one of them, at least. "I'm gonna go back down to my boat and get every towel or blanket I can find, so we can wrap you up in those and get you out of here without the sun messing you up. We'll get to the mainland and... maybe the caravan will be free? And I guess figure it out from there. How's that sound?"

"You protest when I offer you too much praise," Ardyn says, "but I'm afraid I have no other recourse. How does it sound? As though you are my own personal savior."

"Well." Prompto swallows hard. His face feels hot. He's so glad he came out here exploring. "I guess I better get started, then."


End file.
